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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557000">The Ritual of the winter solstice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/pseuds/QueenPotatos'>QueenPotatos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Happy New Year dearly fandom, I mean it's 6k so it's not 6k of smut buuut, In a cave, Kinda, M/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Ritual Sex, no beta we die like Glenn, omg 2021 is gonna be kinky or is not gonna be at all, sort of medival AU, talking denial too they can't even talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:09:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/pseuds/QueenPotatos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>His attention was quickly required by his eyes again, which for some reason, Claude had great difficult to look away from. They paralyzed his thoughts. They brought colours to his cheeks. He didn’t realize the Prince was walking his way until he felt the tips of his fingers brushing past his cheek and it sent a shiver down his spine. They locked their gazes again; even with the disguise, with the blood that smelt so strongly, Claude could tell the Prince was beautiful. He saw it in the shape of his jaw, in the rose of his lips, and the purity of his eyes. Unbeknownst to him, his face was leaning in the Prince’s touch and soon his entire cheek rested in his palm. It was soft, it was gentle. It was nothing he had anticipated, nothing he had been taught.</p>
<p>‘Men are animals. Be docile, it’ll be over before you know it.’</p>
<p>‘It’ll be brutal. They always are.’</p>
<p>But his eyes had nothing of the bestiality his mask implied. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>As the future leader of the Riegan tribe, Claude has to offer his virginity to the future King and shares his mystical powers to pave the path of better future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Ritual of the winter solstice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello I tried to PWP again and I am quite pleased with myself. I went from 32 to 6k ! Houra me Houra me.<br/>I hope you will enjoy it I wrote it in one day.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>In the evening of the 20<sup>th</sup> day of the Etherian moon, Claude was getting ready for the Ritual.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Judith, the head of their tribes and High Priestess, was putting the last line of gold on his lids and lips. Claude closed his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t have to.” She told him. Indeed he didn’t, but the other possibility was one he couldn’t accept.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Am I not the best choice? Only I bear the crest.” Claude pointed at the symbol tattooed on the top of his spine before he was even born, by the hand of their Goddess, and which none other than him had possessed in decades.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you’re a man.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“In ancient times it did not matter which sex we were. It’s only after the Royal family realized our offspring were stronger that they expected to breed with us. We can’t risk you to get pregnant.” Claude opened an eye, Judith was reaching her forty years, and they both knew how difficult her last pregnancy had been. He had a feeling anew one would lead her to death. “My will is unbendable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As her future leader Judith chose not to discuss the matter any further with her nephew, despite having reached the age of wisdom a long time ago when Claude was still so young – barely sixteen, and so was the Prince.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What a tragedy that the King had to die so soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The High Prestress took a moment to study Claude’s face and the embellishment she painted on his face. On his forehead was their symbol, the one of the moon which they worshiped, along with the Sun and the Stars, and Mother Earth. His upper lids were covered with gold powder and so was his bottom lips. She grabbed the kohl that was resting on a table behind her, which she used previously to draw his upper lip and finished her work with a line under his right eye, the same as she did previously on the left before she decided she was now satisfied. Under the light of the torches the gold shone against his dark skin, and so did Claude’s emerald eyes. He was breath-taking with a sort of forceful beauty only youth could provide, and which Judith had once possess; but her days were long gone, and so were her powers. As expected of their tribe, the full moon only embellished Claude’s features and there was, in his eyes, a spark that had not been here a couple of days before. Judith couldn’t help but have a feeling that Fate was responsible for his astonish splendour, as the timing was awfully perfect with variable they couldn’t usually control – on top of the shape of their Moon, the Prince was turning sixteen this day, they could never dreamed of a better configuration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude rose to his feet, bare of footing except some fine piece of jewellery on his left ankle; the golden horns were waiting for him, and with it his attire would be complete. The robe he wore was simple, pristine white, a symbol and the assurance of his virginity for the Royal family, and revealed the shape of his right shoulder and collarbones. A golden belt held the tissue in place, tight around his waist. His wrists were decorated with their finest bracelets, which weren’t as wealthy as they used to be in a distant past, but which suited Claude better – they were light, some he would even call elegant, a thread of leather with an emerald that matched his eyes. The horns were as old as the tribe and had been used by many others for the Ritual, yet they fit perfectly on Claude’s head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nothing but another sign, for Judith, that divine forces were operating in the shadows, and that this Ritual would be of most importance for their future. Claude had been gifted with tremendous powers, and he would soon share them with their next King.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She brought him the veil. “Remember. You’re forbidden to talk. So is he.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know.” Claude replied calmly. He had been instructed about the protocol as soon as they had known about the King’s passing. The rest, well, it wasn’t anything mysterious; knowing how to have sex was innate for humans after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry. He’s a virgin too. It shouldn’t take long.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude didn’t care about that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Judith brought him the beverage and as soon as Claude drank the last drop of it, they went. They were to meet in the bottom of the cave, their sacred ground, to perform the Ritual. The Prince would be escorted by his servant and the Queen Regent before they would leave them alone. Claude had never been there before. The cave was the most remoted and holy place for his tribe, and only Judith and a couple of priestesses had the chance to enter there beforehand, to prepare the place for their encounter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To none of his surprise, the cave was round and enlightened by countess torches, making the walls shine in a warm light. In the middle was the table where they were supposed to mate, which looked as uncomfortable as any hard surface could be and Claude swallowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The act of sex had been taught to him and his body had been prepared accordingly, yet the reality of it only struck him at the sight of their future love nest, and for the first time that day Claude felt anxious. It wasn’t the fear of being hurt, not exactly, but he was suddenly afraid of showing a vulnerable side of him to someone he had never met before, and who would have, for a short moment, a complete control over him, body and soul. He was to give himself unconditionally to the Prince, to share the power at his core and he wasn’t sure how to – this was not explained in any book or known by any of the elders, yet his execution would pave the future of the whole country. It had to be a success. Otherwise, the Ritual would be for nothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Judith walked him past the table. In front of them, what remained of the Royal family awaited them. “Lady Patricia, it is a pleasure to see you again, even under such unpleasant circumstances.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Followed polite words and protocol presentations of the Ritual, the prayers, the offerings. The priestesses kissed the palms of Claude’s hands and perhaps somewhere else, but he couldn’t feel it. He was there, right in front of him. The Prince. Claude couldn’t steal his eyes away from him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Prince had, just as he, been dressed for the occasion. Since the Ritual was supposed to enhance their blood and strength to lead the Nation to victory, the Prince let behind what Claude would imagine his usual attire to be – silk and diamonds, silver and wool, a long cape and a crown – to wear Claude would call barbaric, and which made the Prince look like an animal, or a War God at best. Part of his face was hidden under a lion’s skull, from his forehead to the tip of his nose, and on his cheeks there were line drawn with dried blood to look like claws. Behind the animal’s orbits Claude could see his eyes, so blue and so clear, clashing with the darkness on his lids and around that Claude suspected was due to more dried blood, which the Prince looked full of just as Claude had been decorated with gold. To end his look, on top of the skull was what remained of a lion’s mane that let appear scarcely brands of the prince’s blond hair, which matched perfectly with Claude’s ornaments. His whole body was hidden by the animal’s fur but even then Claude could tell, judging by the shape of his shoulders, that the Prince had started his growth, and was presently bigger and tougher than he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were not to hear the other’s voice. They were to unite in silence, in hushes and whimpers and sighs, and Claude was not to achieve the state of blissfulness. Adults were talking, half the torches were being turned out yet Claude couldn’t see; as if the moment he entered the cave, all his eyes had cared for were the Prince’s blue, mesmerizing him from the very start, dragging to them his entire attention, and his absolute devotion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Judith asked him to, he unveiled his face, the transparent cloth finding a place at his feet. There were to be left alone, the Goddess and their bodies, entwined by Fate and desire. Claude dared not to look up while Judith was still standing by his side, afraid his body would betray what he didn’t want her to be aware of, he who so often made fun of anything regarding destiny and so-called aligned stars. Already did his body know what his mind refused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they were surrounded by the cracklings of the torches only, for all living souls had left the cave, the Prince initiated the protocol. His fur fell on the ground, revealing his naked body that matched every of Claude’s recent expectations if not more. On his chest and belly were more marks, symbols of the Blaiddyd’s family, lines of dried blood that defined the slenderness of the Prince’s waist, and the firmness of his muscles. Claude didn’t dare to look lower, at least not for the time being.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His attention was quickly required by his eyes again, which for some reason, Claude had great difficult to look away from. They paralyzed his thoughts. They brought colours to his cheeks. He didn’t realize the Prince was walking his way until he felt the tips of his fingers brushing past his cheek and it sent a shiver down his spine. They locked their gazes again; even with the disguise, with the blood that smelt so strongly, Claude could tell the Prince was beautiful. He saw it in the shape of his jaw, in the rose of his lips, and the purity of his eyes. Unbeknownst to him, his face was leaning in the Prince’s touch and soon his entire cheek rested in his palm. It was soft, it was gentle. It was nothing he had anticipated, nothing he had been taught.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>‘Men are animals. Be docile, it’ll be over before you know it.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘It’ll be brutal. They always are.’</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But his eyes had nothing of the bestiality his mask implied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When his thumb caressed his cheek, Claude risked closing his eyes. Suddenly aware of his vulnerability, it didn’t bother him anymore; and it came to his mind perhaps long minutes too late that he was, in fact, aroused as much by the animalistic sight than by the tenderness the Prince displayed in his gestures. He was a bit taller. Claude’s nose would perfectly fit just under his chin. When his other hand approached his waist, almost shyly, Claude didn’t move. He had no idea of what to do, terrified by something rising in his chest, a sort of fire that left his skin abrase and aching for something he couldn’t dare to ask. The Prince carefully leaned in and brushed his lips on Claude’s other cheek without kissing it, the pressure lighter than a caress and Claude let out a sigh, of relief and frustration entwined. Realizing that, contrary to what the elders thought, the Prince wouldn’t do everything on his own, Claude took some mild initiative and put his arms around the Prince’s neck, closing the short distance that separated their chest, and the unexpected move sucked a breath out of both their lungs. An arm curled around his waist, pulling him even closer, down their hips, leaving Claude with little place for his wild imagination as to what awaited him. The Prince was already aroused thanks to whatever drug the elders gave him, he was hard and he was big and it got Claude’s head dizzy for a second.</p>
<p>Yet, the Prince ignored the aching state he was in, and with an extreme delicacy he placed his lips just in front of Claude’s, holding his cheek with care, and his eyes spoke better than a thousand words how he was waiting, out of pure politeness, for Claude’s consent to ravish his mouth. Understanding the unvoiced request, Claude nodded, the tip of his nose brushing past the coldness of the skull, and closed his eyes when the Prince’s hand got behind his head and sealed their mouth together. The kiss was as shy and exploring as any first kiss could be, and it took them a second or perhaps two to recollect themselves once it was over, and to claim a second one, more eager. If it lasted longer, the kiss was not enough to satisfy their curiosity and was soon followed by others; Claude took the Prince’s bottom lip between his own and sucked, all too happy when his boldness was rewarded with a groan, quiet but there nonetheless, and by the Prince’s hand grasping his hair, pulling it slightly probably without him noticing, and which let him catch a glimpse of what the unhuman strength of the Royal family felt like. Judith told him the Prince could bend and break him into two, literally, if he ever wanted to, and that he would have to oblige – but he never thought he actually would want to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nothing but the fluid they prepared for the Ritual, travelling in his veins, talking for himself, he knew it, they told him something like this would happen – it was supposed to make everything easier, to lessen the pain, to fog his thoughts – yet Claude couldn’t help but think there was also something else, that even without any artifice there were hardly prettiest eyes than those he was losing himself into, and that his body would never shiver to someone’s else caresses like it was when the Prince touched him. Claude sucked on his bottom lip again and felt something wet against his mouth. He released the flesh and let the tongue inside him, bending his head to the side as a reflex more than anything he had been taught, and figured out most of what they would do tonight would have more to do with instincts than reproduced what he saw on pictures – Claude lost his hands in the Prince’s hair, it was so soft, almost like silk – or what the elders told him about intercourses, an activity they visibly hadn’t had in a long while. They never taught him about how his body would react but simply the mechanical aspect of it, they never told him about the heat in his cheeks, his skin, inside his chest and down under, never told him he would felt warm and cold at the same time, shivering with desire each time he would be touched, and whimpering in anguish when the Prince would leave his body lonely of his affection. When they parted Claude knew by heart the taste of his kisses and was certain he wouldn’t like any others.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>More at ease now that the ice had been broken with a frank success, the Prince let his hands and mouth wander in places that interested him more than Claude’s parted and offered lips, which he perhaps was weary about already. Strong hands travelled down his back and sides, nails scratching on his skin while the Prince’s mouth ran along his jaw. Claude lifted his chin to ease his journey, which pursue with the discovery of Claude’s neck, along his pulse line where it dropped soft kisses, leaving Claude in pure agony by their lightness, and down the hole before his collarbone. The Prince ran the flat of his tongue there before going up, leaving a path of his own saliva that turned cold when it met the air. Claude gasped, and the Prince stopped altogether, his hands cupping his face as soon as the noise had been out, and his eyes were so bright and transparent that Claude could read in them and saw the worry. Claude’s cheeks were red, his mouth agape, painting for air without being breathless. He leaned for another kiss with opened lips, to ease the Prince’s worries away, ignoring the slight pain the lion’s skull inflicted on his skin each time he would lean too close. Tired of playing with blond hair, one of Claude’s hand went on the Prince’s front as they kissed, caressing his cheek and neck before resting on his chest, his thumb brushing against the collarbone. The muscles were firm under his touch. The Prince sucked on his tongue when Claude dared to go lower, and his finger brushed against his nipple. Both groaned against each other mouths.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most of Claude’s clearness of mind, which he was so usually proud of, had left him at that point. His judgement was clouded with unexpected lust and desire, his hands adventurous and determined to explore and display all the Prince’s secrets, starting by the marks on his body that disappeared behind his back. He offered him the other side of his neck to occupy his mouth as Claude curled his remained arm around the Prince’s shoulder blade, and his finger traced the line of the bone only to encounter something that shouldn’t have been here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A scar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Prince hissed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“S-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A hand was on his mouth before any word could get out, and Claude bit his tongue, horrified by what he almost did. They should never hear the other’s voice. It was part of the Ritual, as important as Claude’s horns staying there, or the lion’s skull hiding the Prince’s face. Ashamed he lost so much of self-control with mere kisses, Claude dropped his gaze, his hands fell on his side. The Prince, however, never seemed to resent him for his actions; he joined their forehead as a sign of reconciliation and held both Claude’s wrists to put his hands on his back again. When Claude dared to look back it was only to see the Prince had closed his eyes. Claude sighed got lost against his cheek and his mouth went to his ear, as to murmur ‘sorry, my Prince,’ without saying a word, and the Prince understood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A powerful arm took him by the waist and suddenly Claude’s feet left the solid ground. The Prince held him into his arms and was walking them to the table at the centre of the cave where they were supposed to accomplish the Ritual. Up there Claude had a restricted sight of his back, and the scars he had felt earlier took the shape of the Blaiddyd’s crest, which occupied perhaps half of the Prince’s back. From the way the scars had aged it was evident the Prince had borne them for a while, and that the marks grew with him - Claude wondered for how long, but soon his own back got smashed on the hard table and the Prince was on all fours above him, pining his wrists down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude felt the heat rose to his cheek once more; he must look utterly ridiculous now, red as the flames that surrounded them, with black and gold around his mouth just as the Prince’s own, his makeup having been messed with during their wet kisses. From this new position Claude could see with more ease how strong the Prince was, the shape of his arms and the muscles behind the skin, the tension in his tendons and his need, as strong as his grip, and red as Claude’s cheeks. His whole body urged him to give himself to him at this instant, to spread his legs and invited the Prince inside him; it should be so easy since it was perfectly clear the Prince wanted him that way, devoured by his own desire, yet despite all this, despite their youth, despite their want, they took their time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Feverish hands were on his robe before he had time to blink and traced the outline of his golden belt, which soon ended on the floor. It was then easy for the Prince to make the rest of Claude’s clothes follow; but then again to Claude’s despair it seemed the Prince wasn’t in a hurry to reveal his nudity to the world, even if it was only for his eyes to see. His hand went inside the robe to caress Claude’s chest while his mouth got busy with his neck again, and up until it caught his earlobe between his teeth and sucked it, leaving Claude’s hissing in a blissful mess, with goosebumps on his side and arcing his back. The Prince forced his body back on the table. He sucked on Claude’s ear still, until he was satisfied with his doing, until he got Claude to pant and moan with something urgent that resonate in his chest, and that he could feel vibrating against the palm of his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Goddess, Claude wanted him down there. He wanted him so bad. His mouth that sucked so well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wanted this stupid robe off. To feel the Prince’s hot skin against his, he wanted the Prince to touch him all over and cupped the small of his back, to bite the crook of his neck; he wanted to tell him, he wanted to scream a name he didn’t know, and never would.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The darkness in Claude’s emerald eyes conveyed these truths, or at least part of them, and the Prince understood the universal nonverbal language of lust as any other man. He could be benevolent and answer Claude’s plea, and release them from this barbaric and archaic Ritual, but his hands chose otherwise, they chose to explore, they chose to pleasure, his mouth brought nothing but moans as it sucked on Claude’s skin, up his neck and down his collarbone. The Prince returned his attention to Claude’s gaping mouth while his hand took the robe off his shoulder, revealing his chest, and he played with his nipple until their messy kiss ended to go down there, his tongue playing with it. By that time Claude had already spread his knees to let the Prince settled between his legs, even if he was not half as close as he would like him to be, and if he still had the strength to have one hand in the Prince’s blond locks to keep his head in place, it seemed it was all he could ask of his body, for his other arm was lifeless, forgotten and useless, falling from the table without any trace of grace. Slowly his forces were leaving him. The Ritual had begun. The top of his spine was burning. Claude closed his eyes and groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried in vain to arouse the Prince’s interest to the ache between his legs by thrusting his hips up, trying to hit something solid with the gesture only to meet the empty air. The Prince had come back on all four to avoid the friction and Claude groaned again with frustration this time, and his grip on the Prince’s hair tightened as an expression of his anger. His annoyance was answered by soft kisses, as to say ‘no, not yet, calm down’ that left Claude’s arms boneless; his hand went from the Prince’s head to fall at his side, never to be lifted again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The change didn’t pass unnoticed. They couldn’t keep the slow pace forever, or Claude might die. He didn’t have an endless source of energy after all, and he so wished the Prince to be aware of that fact, and not to be utterly driven by lust to have this little but oh so essential trivia in mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Prince leaned on his elbows, placed at each side of Claude’s head, and his eyes seemed to drown in his. Their whole bodies were pressed together now, painfully, and Claude rolled his hips in provocation, anxious to witness the kind of effect it’d have on the Prince. He seemed so much in control of his own needs that at some point, Claude wondered if he was enjoying it, if this was sort of mechanical for him - as the elders explained to him - or if he’d rather had a woman. Their moans got silenced with a hungry kiss that the Prince initiated, and Claude could breathe in peace; judging by his body language, the jolt of his hips and his dilated pupils, the rose from his cheeks that Claude guessed more than see under the lion’s skull, he wasn’t the only one who felt this excited, and from then the Prince’s touches were harsher, more eager, more impatient than they used to. His kisses were hot and toothy. His caresses were no longer gentle; they slid on Claude’s body thanks to the sweat and would leave bruise behind, he bit on Claude’s bottom lip inadvertently and tasted his blood. Claude sucked on a breath. His vision got blurry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually the white robe joined the belt and the Prince’s fur on the floor. Claude laid bare, aroused, and hard and wet while the Prince got on his knees, overlooking his body. His eyes were as dark as the dried blood on his lids, Claude remarked, and from his spot he barely looked human anymore. His nails were tainted with what he realized was blood from scratched he did on his back. His lips had lost their rosy and fresh colour; their flesh had reddened with their passionate kisses and shone with Claude’s gold. His chest rose and fell along with his irregular breathing, hairless, glittering with pearls of sweat, and Claude bit his lips when he finally had the courage to stare lower to the Prince’s shaft, and his own cock twitched at the sight. It was nearly enough to send him in Heaven without being touched, yet he had to endure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Weakly, Claude tried to lean on his elbows; his legs were the only limbs that were obeying him at the moment though, and he tried as much as he could to curl them around the Prince’s waist to direct his hips to where they were awaited, but even with Claude’s ankles solidly linked behind his back the Prince resisted Claude’s assault, and Claude found himself unable to do anything but whine his agony when his neck got kissed, so tenderly again. His hand managed to grasp the Prince chin, he turned his face to him, forced their eyes to meet. ‘Have me,’ he wanted to scream. His whole body was burning and aching from lack of touch. ‘Have me, tear me apart, fill me,’ the only thought of the Prince ravaging him was enough to build up pleasure down his stomach, and with trembling hands and lips Claude reached for the Prince’s mouth in a strong, tongueless kiss. It was only a distraction, a poorly made even, as his goal had always been the Prince’s hand, unoccupied and not touching him, and as soon as he grasped a wrist Claude directed the Prince’s hand to his groin. Alas, his strength was nothing compared to the Prince’s, and Claude got stopped in his scheme with ease; the Prince nuzzled his cheek as to tell him, ‘No, not yet,’ again, the coldness of the skull making Claude shiver, as his body so close to bliss was now more sensible to any kind of stimulation. Defeated, Claude whined again, and bit his lips, and the sound got the Prince stared into his eyes again; and if Claude had wanted, at this instant, to look more beautiful, more irresistible in the Prince’s eyes, then he would have probably failed, and the way he rocked his hips to get some friction, and how he shuddered once he finally succeeded, were all was needed to break the Prince’s last composure, and sent Claude to his awaited Heaven.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude gasped at first when two fingers entered his mouth. By the time he understood what was asked off him, his tongue was already at work, coaxing the fingers with as much saliva as he could. He got prepared beforehand, but this couldn’t hurt, especially since the elders had poorly judged the Prince’s size.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While Claude sucked on his fingers the Prince had, in his eyes, something dangerous and dark that shone in them, to which Claude was oddly attracted to, irresistibly. They couldn’t stare away. Not even when the Prince ran a finger into his rear and entered him, Claude didn’t even blink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They told him it was supposed to hurt; but it didn’t, not when the Prince put a second finger, or even a third. It was only pleasure and frustration, that it was not enough, that it was not what Claude wanted, needed, yet his hips moved on his own and met the Prince’s fingers halfway when he trusted them inside, and as soon as Claude was panting he could see the Prince was matching his breathing, his eyes on him, always, as if hypnotized by the sight of Claude at his mercy, a second only from drifting away by the action of his hand alone. Claude opened his mouth wilder and stuck out his tongue, begging for the Prince to fill his mouth as well, and soon their tongues melt inside their mouth, and drool ran on Claude’s face to end on the hard table where he laid. He sucked on the Prince’s tongue, he moaned, he was ready, he wanted more, he needed more, life was flooding out of his body and he needed to feel the Prince inside him before it was too late. Judith told him some women lost consciousness before the Ritual was over. Claude refused the possibility.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The redness had reached the Prince’s neck and part of his chest.  They were both total wreck, Claude realized, and this fact alone made his chest swollen with pride and an indisputable joy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he bucked his hips again and his heels pushed on the Prince’s back, bringing him closer to him, the Prince seemed to finally answer his plea. His fingers were out so soon and Claude whimpered at the loss. Sticking fingers got on his cheek as the Prince stroke his cheek with his thumb, a silent ask, a need of confirmation before the irremediable occurred, leaving Claude in awe of such self-control – or perhaps he wasn’t good enough? He nodded; his lips mouthed, without talking, ‘Please,’ at least a couple of times before the Prince’s hand left his cheek to set on his base, while the other hand took Claude’s thigh and raised it against his stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude let out a sigh as the tip brushed inside his entrance. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore. All his nerves had migrated to his groin. Apart from the Prince’s shape, the brightness of his beautiful eyes, all was blurry. All was unimportant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He let out a cry when the Prince penetrated him. It was only halfway in, but it was enough to make Claude feel as if he had been torn in two. His backside burned, rare tears formed at the edge of his eyes, his face shown signs of pain that the Prince was prompted to hush away. His soft lips were on Claude’s cheek before he could think he needed them. His tongue licked the tears, licked his cheeks and kissed the top of his nose when the Prince slid out and in again, more gently than the first time perhaps, as if he were constantly adjusting his thrusts to Claude’s reactions. Little by little Claude felt his inside opening, the Prince spreading his thighs wilder and going inside him until his cock disappeared entirely inside him, which left them both groaning with blissful pleasure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Prince halted there for a moment. His eyes were lost a moment in what happened between their legs, on Claude’s neglected desire that looked like it could burst with the slightest stimulation, and up Claude’s face where it stopped. Claude had some trouble to focus. He felt overwhelmed and complete in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It was supposed to be painful and quick. It was what Judith told him. <em>‘Go along.’</em> She had said. <em>‘Be docile.’</em> The elders had said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were fools. All of them, even Judith.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Ritual was a blessing. The Prince was a blessing. His cock filled him so perfectly, his eyes were the brightest blue he had ever seen, he was gentle and caring, his hands knew how to love. Their eyes locked, for the last time, and then the Prince started to move, reducing Claude in a puddle of cries and moans, lew and nasty, that resonated in the cave, and he soon lost all strength in his legs as well, unable to meet the Prince’s thrusts at all despite his will.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hopefully he was strongly held. The Prince soon got lost in blind desire as well. His thrusts were harsh and hectic. When their position satisfied him no longer, he took Claude by the waist as if he were light as a feather and sat him on his thighs, all the while keeping him impaled on his length.  Claude was boneless, barely had any strength or consciousness to cross his legs behind the Prince’s back to keep a semblance of balance and had to have his head held not for it to fall backwards. The Prince kissed his neck as he moved restlessly inside him, he kissed his jaw, his ear, his temple and when he couldn’t hold Claude as he wanted to, he turned him backwards, Claude’s back on his chest and readjusted himself. Claude’s head fell on his shoulder. He could see his face had turned crimson red. He wanted to see his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the Prince’s mouth on his neck again the angle was perfect for Claude to reach the tie that held the lion’s skull on his head; it would be so easy to take it off, as easy as it had been for the Prince to take off his robe. Bouncing on the Prince’s lap, Claude tiredly raised his arm. His nails scratched the prince’s head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His attempt was stopped way before he reached his goal. The Prince pushed his arm down, his mouth against his ear, he groaned. Claude shuddered in his lap. He sounded like an animal. An animal with a human’s heart. It was funny, now that he thought about it, that the elders and Judith warned him that men were the exact opposite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To add to his other qualities, the Prince had the sense and sensibility to come before Claude passed out from his own bliss and powerloss. He came in a grunt, his breath hot against Claude’s ear, his arms enveloping him, restraining him from moving away from his embrace before he was fully spent and even moments after. Time became a distant notion, and it was impossible for Claude to tell how long they stayed in that position, how long it took for their breathing to come back to what they usually were. Still holding him firmly, securely against his chest, the Prince withdrew with care.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude felt all his bones were joins instead. As if his whole body had lost its structure, its composition. That was a side effect of a Ritual that would have succeeded, he remembered now and smiled, exhausted. His mind urged for rest but part of him wanted this moment to last forever, to always feel this warmth against his back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The arms that were holding him loosened their grip. Claude fell a bit more against the Prince’s chest and caught his hand just in time before it touched him in return. He was not supposed to reach the same state of blissfulness, that was part of the Ritual as well; and as to make amend of this unfair rule the Prince kissed Claude’s skin, one last time, he kissed the top of his spine where his crest, the holy Moon, was tattooed and Claude shivered, one the last time, into his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In a matter of seconds the warmth from the Prince was gone. Arms others than his came to his side and brought him to his chamber where Claude slept for three days straight without dreaming. When he came back to the living, Judith was sitting by his side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was a frank success. King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd has been crowned yesterday. Former Queen Regent Patricia sent you these gifts.” She pointed at a magnificent bow that rested against the wall, and a piece of earing on his bed table. “I still wondered how she figured out you’re an archer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Prince must have told her, he wanted to say. He must have guessed by the way Claude’s hands felt on his skin. He kept the thought to himself, as another gift the Prince gave him. “Can you,” as expected, he was still wearing his leather bracelet; he took it off and turned around, meeting Judith’s wisdom gaze, “Give it to the Prince?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But instead of taking it with a gentle smile as he thought she would, Judith sighed tiredly. “Claude. You will never meet him again. You cannot,” she told him, but he knew that already, he didn’t care. “Forget about him. There’s nothing good in trying to cling to things you cannot hold anymore.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude kept the bracelet in his hands until sleep claimed him again, incapable of putting it back where it belonged, and hated Judith for a couple of more days to have refused his simple demand. Little did he know that she only had his best interest in mind: the effect of the Ritual increased with the bond and compatibility between its participant, and the fact that Claude had not regain consciousness for so long spoke volumes about the amount of spiritual energy Prince Dimitri sucked out of him. But Judith had a feeling it wasn’t only that that he took; there was something in Claude’s eyes that was missing, his usual spark, and she was certain it had nothing to do with divine forces, but with something more human, more dangerous and crueller, something like feelings of fondness, powerful enough to break a heart if not replied with equal passion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was better to extinguish the fire before it turned into a violent blaze. The flames’ inconvenience lied in their inability to be mastered or controlled; and this was all the truer when they were born out of love. And those were, as a result of a twist of fate perhaps, the prettiest ones as well.</p>
<p> </p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The alternative title could be 'Man fucked so good he passed out for 3 days' <br/>I don't know what 2021 will have to offer but let me start with Claude getting railed as he should. I hope you enjoyed it !</p>
<p>If some ppl are wondering if I'll ever continue to explore this AU. I did. It doesn't end well. So I won't write it.</p>
<p>Find me on twitter at doctor-queenie !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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